


The Bed I'm Lying in is Getting Colder

by i_kinda_like_writing



Series: Would It Be a Sin [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Bucky Barnes Feels, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4729628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_kinda_like_writing/pseuds/i_kinda_like_writing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All those years ago, when Steve kissed him in their apartment after they got in a huge fight over Bucky coming home drunk too often, Bucky made himself a promise right then and there. If there was ever a dame good enough for Steve, he’d let Steve go in the hopes that he could have a normal life.<br/>He just never thought about how hard it would be until Peggy Carter walked into the bar in a stunning red dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bed I'm Lying in is Getting Colder

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Number two of my Steve/Bucky fics. I was rewatching Cap1 with a friend who'd never seen it and the whole bar scene just really struck me. Sebastian Stan's facial expressions were just amazing and I read a lot more into them than he probably meant. This is the result. I hope you enjoy :)  
> Title from Hinder's "Better Than Me".

Brown swirls around, creating a small twister inside Bucky’s glass. He considers the drink for a moment before downing it quickly. It burns for a fleeting second, much quicker than it used to go down, but he tries not to dwell on that too much. It’s his umpteenth drink of the night and still he hardly even feels buzzed. The slight tingle that is currently circulating inside him might even just be a figment of his imagination.

He hadn’t planned on drinking so much when the night started, maybe one or two to help him sleep through the dreams that were sure to come. But then Agent Carter walked through the door in that stunning red dress, captivating Steve immediately. With the constant eye contact and double-meaning words, Bucky knew in an instant that she was it. She’s beautiful and independent and cared for Steve before he looked the way he does now. She deserves Steve and that’s probably the worst part.

When she walked in, she spared Bucky just a single glance, and that was only to be polite. Not one more time did she look his way, passing his test with flying colors. If a dame only has eyes for Steve, enough so that she won’t even respond to Bucky’s flirting, then she has the potential to be good enough for Steve. Agent Carter fits all of his other criteria as well. She’s perfect for Steve, the first ever to reach the bar Bucky’s set for Steve’s girl. It’s wonderful and satisfying, having finally found the right person for his best guy, but it’s also tearing him up on the inside.

All those years ago, when Steve kissed him in their apartment after they got in a huge fight over Bucky coming home drunk too often, Bucky made himself a promise right then and there. If there was ever a dame good enough for Steve, he’d let Steve go in the hopes that he could have a normal life. A life without a queer like himself butting in and instead a life with a house in the suburbs, a white picket fence, a couple of kids, maybe even a dog now that the dander won’t make Steve sneeze up a storm. And even though the idea of Steve being happy and normal with Peggy Carter makes him feel warm from his fingers to his toes, the selfish part of him wishes he could break that promise and keep Steve all to himself.

Bucky thinks of Steve more than any other girl on the planet, even more than his own family, because Steve is always his first priority, his go-to topic to cheer himself up, his only solace in a world that is just bullet after whizzing bullet, explosions to lull him to sleep, and cold so constant it freezes him right to the bone. Those nights with Steve in the dark quiet of their bedroom, the light touches and hurried, passionate movements were better than any feel up a girl’s sweater or touch of soft skin on a girl’s thigh. He loves Steve more than any dame he’s ever gone steady with, even Mary Sue, his last girl before shipping off, who he considered proposing to. He also knows that it’s wrong, so wrong, to feel this way about another man and that he will go to hell for his perversion, but he’ll gladly go if it means getting to love Steve the way he does. The one thing he can’t do, though, is let Steve have that same fate. Steve is too good for Bucky’s corruptions, too pure and deserving of the white gates of heaven his ma always preached about, and anyway, the serum probably fixed it along with everything else.

Yeah, Bucky thinks to himself, it’ll be okay. The serum fixed Steve right up, so it won’t even hurt his feelings to end this, and he can live with being deprived of one more thing. He’s already gone without good food, warm blankets, and the feeling of safety for months now. What’s a little unrequited love to a broken soldier? It’ll probably only be for a few months anyway; Bucky knew when he said he’d follow Steve back into the war that he wouldn’t be following him out of it. As long as Stevie gets his good, normal life, Bucky can live with the memories of what Steve’s already given him. And at this point, the warmth of hell is welcomed by Bucky, who hasn’t been able to get the ice off his bones since being pulled off that table. Staring into the bottom of the empty glass, his own sorry mug looking back at him, he makes his peace with his lot in this life.

The only hitch in his plan is finding a way to keep Steve away long enough for him to choose Peggy. Knowing him, the punk will keep indulging Bucky’s perversions even when he’s cured of it, that’s the kind of selfless idiot he is. Telling him to choose Peggy will just make it worse, ‘cause when has Steve ever been known to do what he’s told? Bucky will have to figure out a way to force it. It might even hurt Steve a bit, even if he doesn’t love Bucky, a friendship like theirs is hard to lose. Bucky doesn’t know if he could purposefully hurt Steve like that, and staring into the bottom of the glass with that thought on his mind makes him really wish the liquor was kicking in.

“Hey Buck,” speak of the devil. Steve slides right onto the chair next to Bucky, smiling timidly in that way of his that means he’s nervous about something. “You wanna get outta here? I have a room just down the road.” Bucky considers him for a moment. This could be Steve trying to indulge his urges already, but even if it is, it’ll be a great time to end this.

“Sure, Punk. Let’s go.” Bucky stands, placing the glass on the bar and sliding it away from himself. Steve follows his lead with a small, bright smile on his face and Bucky feels a pang of guilt. He’s going to be the reason that smile leaves Steve’s face when his only goal in life used to be getting it on there. After settling his tab, Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets and leaves the bar, stopping where Steve is leaning against the wall waiting for him.

“How much did you have tonight?” Steve pushes off the bricks, a little crinkle between his eyebrows and his lips slightly pouty. Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to conjure up some of the old exasperation he used to show at Steve’s worrying. It was fake back then too; Steve trying to take care of him always made Bucky feel better about whatever had hurt him in the first place.

“Not too much, _Ma_.” Steve smiles, shaking his head, and darts his eyes down to stare at his shoes. They walk quietly for a while, side by side, with Bucky making sure their shoulders don’t bump. It’s dark outside, no lights because of the mandatory blackout, and Bucky can hardly see two feet in front of his face. If Steve’s quarters for the night weren’t just down the road, there would be no way they could walk.

“I missed you,” Steve says quietly into the darkness. Bucky swallows hard, hoping Steve can’t see it.

“You’re just not used to not having my handsome face around all the time.” Bucky tries to infuse a teasing lilt to his tone, and he thinks for the most part that he succeeds.

“Yeah,” but Steve doesn’t really sound like he believes it. He sounds far off, like he’s thinking about why he really missed Bucky, and for a second Bucky surges red hot with anger. Steve isn’t the one who has to end this, what does he have to sound so melancholy at? Steve’s the one who’s _fixed_ , while Bucky’s going to spend the rest of his life, which isn’t going to be long anyway, loving Steve with all of his heart and knowing it can never be returned. But the anger is gone as quick as it came; Steve has gone through things Bucky can’t understand, and it goes both ways. He can’t be mad at Steve for that.

“So, I heard from some of the guys that you’ve made quite a career for yourself in show business.” Bucky grins as Steve lets out an annoyed groan. “You gonna join Broadway when you get back to the city?”

“Shut up,” Steve shoves at him but there’s a smile in his voice.

“Singing, dancing, wearing tights. I don’t know Stevie, you’d fit right in.” Again Steve bumps him, but this time with his shoulder, and then stays that way, leaning against Bucky for the rest of the walk. Bucky would move away, but he’s letting himself be selfish for a few moments longer and savoring the feeling of Steve against him. Sadly, they get to Steve’s quarters fairly quickly and make their way up to Steve’s room. Inside isn’t exactly upper class, but it’s nicer than the tents Bucky is used to sleeping in. There’s a cot shoved to the far side of the room and a tiny wooden desk opposite it, leaving enough space for at least three people to move around comfortably.

“So how are you feeling?” Steve asks, his worried look once again returning to his face. Bucky grins at him, wide and bright, hoping for a bit of that cocksure personality of his to come out.

“Right as rain, sweetheart.” Steve rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look satisfied.

“Really, Buck. You were-” Steve pauses for a second, seriousness taking over his face as any semblance of joking leaves his features. “When I found you, you were repeating your rank and serial number and that’s-that’s what you do under torture.” His eyes are so damn earnest it makes Bucky want to scream.

“They didn’t strap me down to a table to chat, Stevie.” The words are joking, but his tone is hard, and Steve flinches just a bit.

“You can talk to me,” Steve takes a step closer. “You can tell me what happened.” Steve reaches out for one of Bucky’s hands, but he pulls away. Steve’s face scrunches up in hurt and Bucky hates it but this needs to be done.

“You don’t need to know, it won’t make you feel any better.” Bucky tries to say it with finality, hoping Steve will drop the subject, but no such luck.

“It’s supposed to make _you_ feel better.” Bucky shakes his head and Steve comes closer, his hands coming up once again to touch Bucky. This time Bucky takes a deliberate step back.

“We can’t keep doin’ this.” He says, looking at the cot instead of Steve. “It’s not right.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Steve’s voice is searching, looking for some sense in what Bucky’s saying.

“That whole thing we used to do.” Bucky waves his hand a little, trying to articulate what he’s saying. “It’s over now. Time to move on.”

“Bucky?” It’s the way Steve says his name that gets Bucky to look him in the eye. “Whatever’s makin’ you say this, you're making a mistake. What we have, it’s-it’s-” Steve stops, probably not knowing how to put it, but Bucky takes his chance.

“ _Wrong_ , that’s what it is. We’re soldiers now, we ought to show some decorum.” His voice scratches over the words and he hopes Steve doesn’t notice. It’s wrong, it is, he knows that in his head, but whenever he’s with Steve, nothing has ever felt so right. Maybe everyone’s got it wrong, and it doesn’t matter who you love as long as you love with your whole heart, but in the world they live in, it just doesn’t work like that. Steve is getting his damned white picket fence if it’s the last thing Bucky does and if that means breaking both of their hearts in the process, by God, Bucky will shatter them.

“Stop it.” The anger in Steve’s voice surprises Bucky. “You’re drunk, you’re being stupid. We’re not talking about this now.” Bucky can’t help it; he laughs. Loud and cruel, he laughs right in Steve’s face, and the look of contempt just grows.

“I’m not drunk, Stevie,” he says with an awful grin. “I’m not even _buzzed_. Whatever they did to me on that table has taken that away too. I know what I’m saying and I mean it. They _fixed_ you; everything’s fixed, so you loving me must be gone too. I’m just doin’ you the favor of ending it before you had to.” Steve’s anger drops in a second and no, _no_ , that’s not what was supposed to happen. Steve’s supposed to be furious and kick Bucky out.

“My love for you doesn’t make me broken.” It’s said in his quiet calm voice, Steve keeping it low because allowing himself anything louder would reveal the passion he feels behind the words. “It’s not some faulty wiring; it’s a part of me like it’s a part of you. I will love you no matter what, I mean that.” He takes a step forward and Bucky has to force himself to flinch. Steve can tell it’s fake though, and reaches up to cup Bucky’s slightly stubbly cheek. “It’s not wrong. _We’re_ not wrong.”

For the first time in Bucky’s life, he’s looking up at Steve. Just a little bit, maybe half an inch at most, but it’s a definite inclined angle and it’s looking up into those baby blue eyes Bucky has loved his entire life that he knows what he has to do. Standing this close, feeling Steve’s breath on his skin, electricity at every point of contact between them, hearts no doubt beating in time like some lovely song Bucky could listen to forever, Bucky knows there could never be anything wrong with how they love one another. Out of everything in his life, if anything he has is right, it’s this, it’s Steve.

And it’s that realization that makes this a million times worse.

“Stevie,” his voice cracks and Steve holds his breath. He knows it could go either way now and Bucky hates that he’s doing this. “I can’t.” He expects Steve’s hand to drop, but his fingers just curl inwards so the skin from the back of his fingers is resting against Bucky’s cheek.

“Why?” It’s quiet still, but for a different reason. Steve’s hoping he can prove Bucky wrong, can convince him they should be together, but what he doesn’t realize is that Bucky already knows that. They _should_ be together, Bucky _is_ wrong, but here, in this life, they’re the only two that know that. Captain America can’t be a queer and more than that, Steve Rogers deserves a good, normal life, and even though Bucky would drown himself to give Steve what he deserves this is one thing he himself can’t give Steve. Stopping this whole thing is the closest Bucky can get to giving Steve a normal life.

“Peggy Carter’s why.” For a second, Steve’s eyes go confused, swimming through the tears threatening to escape for why Bucky could possibly think Peggy could come between them. Then he understands and his sweet, pink lips drop open to protest.

“I don’t love her-” Bucky shakes his head.

“You could, though, I saw it. She’s perfect; she deserves you like no one else does. You could have it, Steve, the house, the kids, everything. A normal life. You’d be happy.” Bucky tries to force emotion into his voice, make Steve know that Bucky wants this for him.

“I’m happy with you,” and Steve sounds so broken, exterior shattered and despair dripping out through the cracks. He knows now that he won’t be changing Bucky’s mind and he’s heartbroken. Seeing that in Steve’s eyes makes it so much worse. He just hopes that he’s hiding his own heartbreak because if Steve sees it, he’ll latch onto it and never let go.

“Imagine it; walking down the street and holding her hand without the fear of being beaten or worse. Actually getting to watch her walk down the aisle and marry her, tell everybody about it. Having kids, Stevie, little munchkins with your eyes, her hair. They could call me uncle Bucky and I’d visit on weekends.” A choked sob breaks out of Steve’s mouth at that and he surges forwards, pressing his lips to Bucky’s. It’s everything Bucky’s been missing these past months, soft pink lips pressing against his so urgently, like Steve could keep him from saying these things as long as he keeps kissing him.

“Please don’t do this,” Steve pulls back, resting his forehead against Bucky’s. “Please, Buck.” Bucky takes a few seconds to just breathe in the scent of Steve before taking a deep breath through his nose and pulling back.

“You’ll thank me one day, I promise.” He turns, walks out of the room, and closes the door behind him. Only when he hears the rapid breaths of a crying Steve does he let the tears fall, burning hot on his face that feels so much colder knowing Steve isn’t his anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and thanks for reading :)  
> By the way, personally I think Steve's acceptance of his sexuality wasn't as instantaneous as some would believe, especially during that time period when it was considered wrong. I have a prequel set up to explain that and I will post it soon I hope. So if you liked this, keep your eye out for the prequel :)


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